


helplessly helpless: I’m alive, can you hear me?

by MANIAvinyl



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Danisnotonfire - Fandom, Phan, Phandom
Genre: All of this is in the past though!, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Cute Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Dan Howell Angst, Dan Howell Loves Phil Lester, Dan Howell Needs A Hug, Dan Howell/Phil Lester Comfort, Dan Howell/Phil Lester Fluff, Dan Howell/Phil Lester One Shot, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt Dan Howell, Hurt Phil Lester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insecure Phil, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, Phil Lester Needs a Hug, Phil Needs a Hug, Sad, Sad Dan Howell, There is a bright future here, Video: Daniel and Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 05:31:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18543274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MANIAvinyl/pseuds/MANIAvinyl
Summary: Dan’s been in a relatively good place. He’s kept his head screwed on tight recently. So because the worst of the storm has passed he feels like it’s on him to help the world to de-stigmatize talking about mental health. When he mentions this to Phil, though, it’s finally revealed how much the last few years have impacted his best friend, too.Really, I just wanted to explore Phil’s side of the story regarding Daniel and Depression. Because mental health doesn’t just affect the individual; it also affects those close to them, in ways we can’t imagine until we’re the ones on the other side.





	helplessly helpless: I’m alive, can you hear me?

**Author's Note:**

> Title: The Last Great Washington State, Damien Jurado.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Dan exhaled slowly, watching his breath billow out in front of him then fade away. He stood out on Blackfriars bridge, hood up so nobody could recognize him, and stared down into the swirling waters below.

It was a particularly cold afternoon in London, despite it being almost summer, but Dan wasn’t all that opposed to this type of weather; he rather liked the cold, far more than the hot.

He unfolded the piece of paper he held in his hands. Usually, he wasn’t a very traditional person, but he felt compelled to print this one out, have a tangible version of the video.

“Daniel and Depression,” it wrote, in bold letters at the top of the wrinkled page. He swallowed, eyes drifting back up to scan across the water, and then the pale gray city before him. 

Below the title was an array of bullet points, not dissimilar to the notes a student would take at university.

He exhaled again, gut tingling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. He quickly folded the paper and shoved it back into his jacket pocket. 

He could feel anxiety bubble up in his throat as he straightened his collar and stepped away from the railing. He began walking back in the direction of their flat.

—

“Dan?” came Phil’s voice, slightly nervous, apparently from the kitchen. It seemed like he was cooking something. “Is that you?”

Dan chuckled, shutting the front door. “Yes, it’s me,” he called softly. “You moron.”

“What was that?”

Dan popped into the living room, where the kitchen was connected. “Oh, you thought I was some sort of intruder, did you?” he said, amused.

“I did not!”

Dan snorted. “Right. Whatever.” 

“Where’d you go?” Phil said, changing the subject. Dan glanced at the stove; something was sizzling in the pan. It smelled good.

“Nowhere,” Dan sighed. “Just a walk.”

“Oh.”

Dan hesitated, conscious of the video script in his pocket. Instead he asked about the food.

“Hm?” Phil laughed. “Oh, just some recipe. Felt like cooking.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious,” Dan murmured. 

Phil only laughed again. 

—

After dinner Phil went back to his room for a while. Dan settled into his spot on the couch, computer rested comfortable in his lap, and he began to flip through his files. Many of them were old videos, just long, uncut versions. Mostly just trash. 

He took out the paper again— he didn’t know why he kept doing it. 

He’d thought long and hard about this video, and it’s something that had been bouncing around his head for a while now. He wanted to make a depression video because it’s a part of him whether or not he wanted it to be, and it’s something he’s learned to deal with— and he was tired of hiding it from the people. 

He’d decided that maybe by telling his story, he could not only help himself, but help the kids who look up to him. Help them see that things could get better.

He’d told his therapist the day before, that he wanted to do this. He told him he was scared of the backlash and sympathy he might get, but also compelled, because somebody with his platform _needs_ to aid in de-stigmatizing mental illness. He felt he had a job to do, now that his head was screwed on a little bit tighter. 

The sun was setting over London now, casting an orange glow into the apartment. It was calm, Dan noticed. 

Soon Phil’s footsteps could be heard from the hallway.

“Turn on BBC,” Phil said, bubbly. Dan’s eyes were still fixed on his paper. He felt the couch dip as Phil sat down.

“Dan? Where’s the remote?” Phil wasn’t looking at Dan; he didn’t notice the paper yet.

“Uh... on the ottoman,” he murmured. “Under the pillow.”

“Ah.” Phil reached for it, but before he could move to turn the television on, Dan shifted.

“Hey, I’ve got to talk to you about something.”

Phil wasn’t really paying attention. “What, can it wait?”

Dan hesitated. “Uh, no. It can’t wait.”

“Huh?” he sounded confused for a moment. Dan usually wasn’t this firm on anything, so it must be important.

“Listen, we have BBC recorded,” Dan said, slightly strained. “This can’t wait.”

“O-okay. Yeah, sure.” His voice was tightly concerned now. He lowered his hand, setting the remote back down on the ottoman. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he assured him. “I just want to get your... thoughts. On this.”

“On what?”

Dan folded the paper again. 

“I’m going to make a video about my depression,” he said quietly. “I’m— well, I wrote the script already.”

Phil was silent, eyes finally finding the page on Dan’s lap. Dan watched Phil’s wheels start turning as he decided what to say.

“Are you sure?” he said quietly, obviously stunned.

“I— I think so.”

“You think so?” It sounded skeptical.

“Well, I know I have to.”

“That... is that true?”

“Listen, Phil, I’ve been better recently, you know? I’m in an okay place, and, and I think it’s time.”

“Yeah, but...” he trailed off. “Never mind.”

“What?”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, yeah? That’s— that’s good, that’s _so_ good, Dan,” Phil murmured. “But... this is a big thing. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I asked Dr. Miller, I told him I wanted to do this.”

“Okay.”

There was a moment of complete silence.

“Phil, I _have_ depression,” Dan said, turning his head, voice taut. “There’s no way around that. Firstly, I have a platform; I have to help change the stigma, not add to it. Secondly, I can’t go on just... just covering it up like I have been. That’s what hurts me, Phil. It’s when I just have to cover it up.”

Phil took a deep breath.

“Do you hide it from me?” he asked quietly. “I don’t think you do, but—“

“I try not to hide it from you,” Dan answered softly. “Everybody else, yeah, but not you.”

Phil nodded. “I’m sorry,” he added.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. I don’t check up on you enough. I don’t— I should—I—“

“Stop it, Phil. It’s okay. You do enough, I promise.”

“No, I don’t. Not usually. Usually I just... deflect it, whenever you bring it up.” Phil sounded defeated.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed. “You say you’re sad, and I make a joke. I deflect, Dan. That’s it.”

“Well—“ Dan cut off. “Well, that’s okay. You didn’t sign up for any of this; I’m aware of that—“

“No, that’s not fair—“

“Phil, I’m not _your_ responsibility. I’m not helpless.” Dan shifted. “You don’t need to feel responsible for me.”

“I know that. But I... sometimes I feel like I could be doing more to help. I could be a better friend.”

Dan swallowed. “You _are_ a good friend,” he said, voice breaking.

“I don’t do enough,” Phil murmured. “I never...” He stopped. “Dan, I was scared, okay?”

A hesitation. “You... what?”

Phil sighed, and Dan could tell he’d gone shaky. It was always a subtle thing, that he could hide from most people. But Dan could tell.

“Are you okay,” Dan asked gently. 

Phil swallowed, clenching his fists once, and then releasing. Dan knew he didn’t like to talk about that kind of thing. He nodded though, letting out a breath.

“Yeah. I just— yeah.” Phil shifted. “I got scared, Dan. When you first told me you got diagnosed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was _scared_ for you,” Phil said. ”I didn’t— I hadn’t ever— I mean, I’ve been sad before, obviously, but...” he trailed off. “I’m sorry. I’m terrible at...“ He set his jaw forward, and Dan could see the way his shoulders twitched.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Phil cleared his throat. “I’d been sad before, but I’d never dealt with... depression. That’s something I’ve never had to worry about, you know?”

Dan nodded. 

“And then I would google it, and stuff, and... it scared me.”

“What? That I could... kill myself?”

“Yeah,” Phil murmured. “That, and the fact that I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it— or about anything. I wouldn’t be able to help, because that’s... that’s not how it works. And I know it’s not about me, but—“

“You felt powerless,” Dan said. Phil nodded, but he looked pained.

Dan winced. “We don’t have to talk about this, if you don’t want to,” he told him.

“No, that’s not fair to you.” Phil swallowed. “Plus... end the stigma. I’m okay with it.”

“You sure? Because we don’t— you can just watch my video, if you want.”

Phil smiled weakly, eyes fixed on his hands. “No, Dan. I want you to hear this.”

“Okay.”

“Can we go somewhere, though? Somewhere else?”

Dan glanced out the window; the sun had already set.

“It’s cold,” he reminded Phil.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “But it’s better than just sitting here.”

Usually Dan would say no, that there’s no way in hell he’s leaving the house at this hour, but something in Phil’s voice sounded... destroyed. So Dan gave in.

He nodded, shutting his laptop. “Let’s do it.”

“Go where?”

“Wherever you want to go. I’ll go.”

—

They chose a pub out by the bridge, a few streets down. Dan was right; it was cold, but they had remembered their coats, and there wasn’t much wind. 

Phil seemed jumpy, though. He seemed nervous.

They walked in silence for a while, watching their feet step over the cracks in the pavement, dimly lit by the flickering street lights. Though it was just an hour or two past sunset, there were few people out. 

But just before they reached the pub, Phil stopped. Dan turned around, watching him carefully. It wasn’t often he saw Phil upset; he’s more used to the quiet, subdued off-camera Phil, but not upset Phil. It took a lot to shake him.

But this was more heartbreaking than Dan expected, and he could feel his own strength faltering. 

“What is it, Phil?” he asked, shoulders dropping.

There was a moment of hesitation. “I’m just gonna pick up where I left off, okay?”

Dan nodded. 

“Um, it was three years ago, right? When you first went to a doctor?”

“Yeah, I think.”

“Listen. I always knew you had your things, you know. I wasn’t ignorant, or anything, I just didn’t know it was as bad as it was.” Phil swallowed. “Which was stupid, I know. I should’ve known. But I didn’t, so when you told me you got diagnosed, I just felt scared.”

His words were careful, like he’d been thinking for a while. Dan didn’t answer; he figured he should just listen. 

“Because I would look up symptoms of depression, and I would look up all the facts and statistics, and it terrified me. And I know it was never about me, but— but, I was just scared. ‘Cause I love you, Dan. I couldn’t lose you, I couldn’t let you lose.” He let out a shaky breath. “Because according to the numbers, there was a very real chance you could. And then I’d see you fall down again, and disappear for days, or just lock yourself away...”

Now Phil’s voice was starting to waver, and his eyes glinted with tears. 

“And I hated it. It wasn’t your fault, of course, I just— I just couldn’t do anything about it. I would try, but it wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t my fault, it was just that _thing_ that’s inside of your head that... well, I don’t know what it does to you. But it does something, and it was all out of our power.”

“I’m sorry,” said Dan, quiet.

“No, stop it,” Phil whispered, wiping the back of his hand under his eyes. “Please don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. It’s— I should’ve been stronger, for you. I should’ve held it together, but I just— I just couldn’t, I freaked out, stepped back, and now— now I just deflect. I don’t help. I just deflect.” 

The last few words were hardly audible, and Dan could tell how miserable Phil felt. It was as if all the troubles, all the struggles in the past three years had all built up to this. 

Dan looked at Phil and his heart broke. 

Because this was _Phil,_ the last one left with a true heart of gold. He didn’t deserve any of this, yet here he was, standing in a cold, dark side street in London Town in the middle of March, with tears in his eyes and a type of pain in his heart that Dan was all too familiar with.

Dan wanted to run, so far away that none of this mess could touch him anymore. But even he knew he couldn’t run from problems that only exist on the inside, so instead he just stood there, watching his best friend, the last old soul left on Earth, crumble before his eyes.

“I tried my best, and I hope I helped at least a little bit, but Dan, I was so scared. I— you would just _sit_ there, with a look in your eyes that was so far away from me, even when I was _right there_. You’d look like you’d lived a thousand lives. And I just— I couldn’t ever break through to you.” Phil was crying now, but he kept talking, kept speaking. “I’d watch you sometimes, when you’d sit on the balcony of our old flat, staring out over the city, into the night, almost like you wanted to darkness to swallow you up entirely. I thought you were gone, Dan.” His words crumbled. “I— I thought you were gone.”

There was only silence as Dan processed his words, as the wheels in his mind spun faster and faster. 

“Say something,” Phil whispered, and now Dan could see the glint of the tear tracks down his cheeks. “Please, just say something.”

“Phil,” Dan murmured. “Phil, shh. I’m not gone. I’m right here.”

Dan watched as Phil let out a long, controlled breath. “I love you, so, so much.”

“I love you, too.” Dan swallowed. “Come here.”

Phil stumbled forward, falling into his arms, almost like a magnet snapping into place. 

It was then that Dan could feel Phil splinter, and break into pieces in front of him. He’d never really seen Phil like this before; he’d seen him cry, yes, but this was vastly different.

This was fear, shame, desperation, and relief... it was all of it, all tied into one moment, one broken sob after another, one trembling, shuddering breath after the next. It was Phil, completely and utterly falling apart in Dan’s arms, over a something that Dan may never fully escape from.

And Dan knew that Phil knew this, that he may never be out of the woods, that there will always be darkness again. And yeah, that was scary, it was terrifying to know that there will always be black spots, always be misery, but Dan’s come to learn that it didn’t always have to be so bad.

He didn’t have to be afraid of that darkness in moments of light; he didn’t have to let that fear control him. 

“I never meant for you to get hurt,” Dan whispered. “Listen, Phil.” He rubbed Phil’s back, in tiny circles, until he looked up.

“Listen,” Dan repeated, chin resting on Phil’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Phil whispered. 

“Okay,” he breathed. “Just hear me out, yeah?” 

Phil nodded. 

Dan sighed. “I’m not gonna pretend that the last few years weren’t the hardest I’ve ever faced; that there weren’t times I thought it really was the end of the line.” Dan swallowed. “But I made it through. I fought my way out, and I’m lucky I had you by my side. God, Phil, I’m so lucky you stuck with me.”

“Of course I did,” Phil murmured. 

Dan tried to smile. Instead, he found tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Listen. I know I’ll always have this... thing. I’ll always have days where I feel like I’m sitting at the bottom of the ocean, and nights where I can’t sleep at all. But I don’t have to focus on that; I don’t have to be afraid of it.” He exhaled slowly, then pulled back. He wiped his thumbs under Phil’s eyes. “I‘ll enjoy life when I can, and survive while I can’t.”

Phil nodded. After a while, he shifted.

“You know,” he breathed. “I used to think my dad was the strongest person I know.“

“Hm?”

“Now I think it’s you.”

Dan only smiled, watery and sad, but underneath it all there was an underlying sense of hope. 

Because Phil was still here, still with him after all these years. He’s the last old soul left on Earth; the last of the true romantics. He was here with Dan because he loved him, despite all of the darkness they’ve both seen, and despite the pain.

“Did you think about leaving me?” Dan asked slowly, and so quietly. 

Phil looked up, and for once Dan couldn’t read his expression. 

“Why do you ask that?” Phil murmured.

“I’m curious.”

Phil took a deep breath, and stepped away from Dan. “Let’s keep walking, yeah?”

Dan nodded. He just let Phil lead them away from that sidewalk square, by the flickering gas lamp. 

When they almost reached the pub, Phil spoke. His voice was distant, and so quiet that Dan had to strain to hear it.

“All the signs were telling me to leave,” he murmured. “Everybody. My mom, my friends, even _you_ , sometimes... But I couldn’t. I couldn’t even think about it, Dan. I couldn’t leave you all alone.”

Dan didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say.

“I love you so much, baby,” Phil breathed. “I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to.”

“I love you too.“

But then he was cut off by Phil, who, in a sudden, swift movement, took Dan’s face in his hands and pressed his lips against his own.

There were no sparks, or butterflies, or anything like that. It wasn’t the cliche, or what you see in the movies, where the fireworks go off in the background, and the camera spins around the couple. Instead, the kiss tasted like sadness, a bittersweet kind of pain, full of love and heartbreak, but also a sort of searing, beautiful hope. 

Because they both know that there will be darkness again, but it’s just the pure, innocent hope that there will be better times as well. 

—

The rest of that night was lost to gentle laughter in the dim gas-lamp glow of the pub by the bridge, the sharp, warm taste of jack whiskey, and the buzz of true, unbridled love. 

After a few drinks it hit him suddenly that he was living the life he thought he’d never be able to have. It’s like he’s woken up in the future, in a world where his dreams came true, in a world where he’s actually happy.

It took another moment for that to set in, but when it did, it hit hard. 

He thought of his life back in Berkshire, and his gray-static childhood, and the emptiness that came with the lonely memory. He thought of the house he grew up in, filled with quiet fights and angry eyes— even though his parents tried, he knew they did, but there were just too many problems under that roof. 

He thought of the train tracks in the field, on the outskirts of town, just south of the school, and how it felt to lie there on the rigid metal, in the cold in the middle of November, with a complete, bone-chilling emptiness in his heart that he’d tried so hard to forget. 

And then fear as he felt the tracks start to vibrate, as he realized he didn’t really want to die, all he really wanted was for the pain to go away. He remembered running as fast as he could, as far away from those tracks as he could, because he just wanted to stop existing.

The water mains burst behind his eyes, because then he thought of his life after that, and the years it’s taken for Dan to heal those wounds, and all through that time, the warmth he felt was Phil. It was always Phil.

Phil looked up quickly, confused and concerned. 

“Oh my God,” he said. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Dan whispered.

“Why are you crying, then?”

Dan smiled then, broken and small, and let out a little laugh. He knew how much of a mess he looked. 

“It’s funny, isn’t it?”

“W-what’s funny?”

Dan rubbed under his eyes, forcing another smile. “That I’m _here_ ,” he said, voice wavering. “That I survived, that I made it out of that little town, that somehow, I met you.” He swallowed. “That I actually went to therapy, that I— that I’m _happy_ , Phil. I’m actually happy.”

Phil smiles tightly, moving his eyes from the tears on Dan’s face to the cold countertop, where the empty glasses sat. He reached out to cover Dan’s hand with his, and Dan could feel the trembling again; it always came when Phil was nervous. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dan breathed. _You are my home._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and don’t forget to leave a comment!!


End file.
